Songs Page

An Rógaire Dubh

(The Black Rogue)

Sung like the tune of the same name

Top

The Bogs of Shanaveever

My young life has passed, which makes me feel dreary
When in exile I'm cast on the wilds of the prairie.
There to hunt the Buffalo, the panther and the beaver
But my thoughts wander back to the Bogs of Shanaheever.

Tommy, Andy and Eoin in my absence make ready.
By the early morning moon get the dogs out and ready.
And make no delay, but be fast and clever very clever.
And wee'l have a fine day's coursing, on the Bogs of Shanaheever.

In London for years, Ryan spoke of Susannah
And young Willie Ayer, he would boast of Diana
But the truth to you I'll tell , there is none of them I'd favour
I'd give Victor the sway, on the Bogs of Shanaheever.

From the shores of Lough Annagh to the plains of Benbricken
And beneath the red sun, my poor heart was ticking
Went to make for Letterdean, but the boys they did'nt favour
So we crossed by the hill to the Bogs of Shanaheever.

The course it was rough, but those dogs they were strong winded
And of each silvery hound,  oh the hunting it was splendid.
Those 2-year old dogs were both knacky good and clever.
They ran over the bog, to their death in Shanaheever.

The day that Victor died, my coursing days were over.
I sat down and cried, like a heartbroken lover.
I laid Victor in his grave and I left him there forever.
Paid my passage to New York, from the Bogs of Shanaheever.

Oh Ireland, my love, I will think of you forever.
There is no place on Earth, I would like with such great fervour.
And when She is free, I'll come back again to see Her
And I'll spend my days a-coursing on the Bogs of Shanaheever

Top

Tá Mo Chleamhneas Déanta
(My Wedding Match is made)

Tá mo chleamhneas déanta ó arú aréir,
Gus ní mó ná go dtaitnionn an bhean údaí liom féin;
Ach fágfa mé ’mo dhiaidh i ’gus rachal mé leat féin
Amach ‘fud na gcoillte craobhach.

A match was made for me in here last night,
And that to a woman who’s not of my choice.
I’d leave her far behind, love, and go away with you
Out under the trees of the forest.

Ó shiúil mise thoir agus shiúil mise thiar
Agus shiúil mise Corcaigh ’gus sráideanna Baile ‘ Cliath;
Macasamhail mo chailín deas ní fhaca mise riamh,
Sí ’n bhean dubh i’ d’fhág mo chroí cráite.

I’ve walked east and I’ve walked west,
I’ve wandered through Cork, and through Dublin’s streets,
The equal of my love I never did meet,
The dark girl that has my heart stolen.

Is fada ’tá mo tharraingt ins a' bhaile seo le bliain,
Gus ní mar gheall ar Mhuire agus ní mar gheall ar Dhia,
Ach a' dúil go bhfaighinn i bláth na n-úll
Sí ’n bhean dubh í ’dtug mo chroí grá di.

A year full of longing I’ve spent in this town,
And not for the love of Mary or for God,
But seeking to find her, the flower of them all,
The dark girl that left my heart broken.

Ó d ‘éirigh mé ar maidin dhá uair roimh an lá,
Agus fuair mise litir ó mo mhíle grá;
Chuala mé an smolach ‘s a' londubh á rá,
Gur éalaigh mó ghrá thar sáile.

Since I arose this morning, two hours before the light,
And found a letter from her telling me that she was gone,
The thrush and the blackbird have been telling all the world
That my love has gone over the ocean.

[A match was made for me in here that night
But not to the lassie I love the best.
I’d rather have stayed single all the days of my life,
Since I can’t wed my own dark-haired darling.]

Top

Top